Indianapolis Times, Volume 44, Number 270, Indianapolis, Marion County, 22 March 1933 — Page 13

MARCH 22, 1033

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rfc.in iiiff. torav Wh*n JANET HII.L i*arns ROTE CART.YI.E ha bn breaking engagements *ith her so meet BETTV r KENDALJ. a society girl, she tell* him their marriage 1* off Janet 1* 23 prttv and recretary to BRUCE HAMILTON, advertising manager c! Every Horn* Magazine. She Still ir-es Rod and can not torget him. JEFF OR ANT. young engineer who lives a* the -we rooming house as Janet. appears one right hist in time to save her purse from a holdup man. Janet. hromes Interested In the BILVANI famiiv. almost destitute Jeff helps provide food and clothing for them and later they find a Job for PAT SILVANI the fgthei Jeff and Janet become close friends. He ask- her to help him select a gift lor a girl and they buy a purse. When Janet sf' in newspaper headlines that Rolf has eloped with Betty Kendall she tells Jeff about her broken engagement and says she never will care for any one else A few davs later Bruce Hamilton tells Janet he Is leaving the magazine The staff Is to be reduced and her Job will b* gon*. Hamilton savs his sister. MRS. CURTIS, needs a social secretary and that he has recommended Janet. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (Can- „ tinued) "What would I have to do?” Janet asked. "Well, I don’t know that I can tell you exactly. You would take charge of her correspondence—and there's a lot of it. You would make appointments for her and see that she doesn’t promise to be two places at the same time. "There might be dealings with the servants for you to attend to. My sister entertains quite a little. It’s quite possible that every day would be different. Do you think you'd .like to try it?” a a a JANET hesitated. Then she said, “I would like to try it, Mr. Hamilton. I don't know if I could do it, but I’d like to try.” ‘•Oh, you can do it, all right! I haven't the slightest doubt about that. Remember the other day I asked if you liked cats? Well, my sister has a Persian she’s very fond of. Had it for several years. "Buster’s the cat’s name and Buster will be around all the time. That’s why I wanted to know if you objected to cats.” , Janet laughed. “If the cat doesn't object to me,” she said, “I’m sure we ll get along all right.” “There’s one other thing," Hamilton added as an afterthought. “My sister will want you to live in her home. You’ll find it very pleasant there, I’m sure. “You’ll have your own quarters, of course, and a certain time each day to yourself. It won't be like coming to an office, though, and leaving it." Give up her room at Mrs. Snyder’s? The little kitchenet and the table that was just big enough for two and the comfortable old armchair? Could she give up that room with its happy memories? Yes, but there were memories that weren’t so happy! There were memories that made her eyes darken and seem to contract quickly. “I won't mind that,” Janet said. “Where does your sister live and when can I see her?” Hamilton gave her the address and she wrote it down. His sister’s name was Mrs. Curtis and she lived in a fashionable section on the west side. He told Janet how to get there. Then over the telephone he made an appointment for her to call on Mrs. Curtis the next afternoon. “I think you're going to like it out there,” he assured the girl, evidently well pleased with himself. "Yes, I think you’ll like it. And now will you call Humphries ,and tell him I’ll get that report over to him this morning?” Janet put the call through. She and Hamilton soon were occupied completely by details of the day’s tasks. Janet went through all the familiar duties but with what a difference? The fact that she was to be here such a little while longer changed everything. It changed Janet herself. i “But of course I don’t really know yet” she reminded herself. “I won't know until I’ve talked to Mrs. Curtis.” 7TSGDK AfW SY BRUCE CAITQN E. W. SCRIPPS not only founded a chain of newspapers, a great press association, and a far-reach-ing news feature service; he did a job which Insured the freedom of the press in the United States for generations to come, and thereby did the cause of democracy an inestimable service. So says N. D. Cochran in “E. W. Scripps,” a fascinating biography of one of the great figures in American journalism. * Mr. Cochran tells the story of Scripps* life with gusto. He shows the publisher getting his start in Journalism in Detroit, moving to Cleveland and founding the “Penny Press," breaking the tradition that a newspaper must be a partisan, subsidized political sheet and ending the era in which only a morning paper could be truly prosperous 1 and influential. He describes the canny, energetic way in which Scripps expanded his field, starting new papers, failing occasionally, but succeeding most of the lime, exercising a genius at picking successful editors, proving—with the "Chicago Day Book i—that a metropolitan newspaper could be a financial success without a line of advertising, and fighting successfully against an attempt to establish a vast press association monopoly. Better still, he gives us a good picture of a restless and speculative man—an intensely human man who took time off frequently with rueful humor, who was disillusioned. but ftot cynical, a reformer with a sense of humor and a grip on the realities. All in all. it v a v. stiy engaging book. Published by Harcourt, Brace A* Cos., it is priced at $3.

THIS REP TAPE SIMPLIFIES

At 2:30 the next afternoon Janet .went up the walk to the brick house with the gabled windows and rang the bell. ana CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR THE maid in the smart gray uniform who opened the door said, “Yes, Mrs. Curtis is expecting you. Won’t you come In?” Janet was ushered into a sunlit living room and then the maid disappeared. It was a large room with green walls hung with a great many pictures. The heavy, wine-colored curtains at the windows dropped to the floor and the sunlight, falling on the carpet, gave it a pattern of light and darkness. There seemed to be a good deal of furniture and yet somehow the room was not crowded. There were book shelves between the window’s and there was a fireplace with a mirror above the mantle. It W’as a pleasant room. Cheerful. Colorful. Comfortable. Janet sank into a chair to wait. She never had seen a room like this before. She never had been in such a large, imposing house, either. Janet sat up very straight, feeling a trifle self-conscious. Then she heard footsteps and a woman with gray hair appeared in the doorway. “I am Mrs. Curtis,’ ’she said. “And you are Miss Hill? How do you do.” Mrs. Curtis moved forward. She was slightly less than medium height, a stout little woman with the pink and white complexion that often goes with stoutness. She had a round face and a double chin. Impossible to imagine any one more in contrast to Bruce Hamilton's sparse, rangy figure and yet there was something that was alike about them. Janet arose. “Yes, I'm Miss Hill,” she said. ‘*Mr. Hamilton told me you're looking for a secretary.” The woman motioned Janet back into her chair and sank into one facing it. “Yes,” she said, nodding. “It's my brother’s idea. I’ve never had a secretary, but since my daughter was married I’ve been alone here. Perhaps too much alonq,! My brother tells me you’ve very efficient.” a a a IT was the dark eyes, Janet decided, that made Mrs. Curtis and Mrs. Hamilton look alike. Only Mrs. Curtis w’as little and plump and ineffectual, while Bruce Hamilton was big and brusque and dictatorial. Janet found herself quite suddenly agreeing with Hamilton that his sister did need someone to manage her affairs. She smiled. I’ve been at the Every Home office for more than two years,” she said. “The work here would be different, I imagine, but I'd try to do it just as you wanted me to.” That seemed to be all there was to it. Janet sat for ten or fifteen minutes longer and listened while Mrs. Curtis talked rather vaguely about the duties she wanted fier secretary to take over. She didn't ask questions about Janet’s past experience. She didn't even say definitely that Janet was hired for the position, but seemed to assume that was understood. “When would you want me to come to work?” the girl asked. "Is next Monday too soon?” No, Janet said, it wasn’t too soon. Hamilton had arranged that she was to be free at the end of the week. “About the salary ” Janet began hesitantly. Mrs. Curtis gave a little exclamation. “I’d forgotten all about that!” she said. “Dear me! Dear me! Well, of course, you’re to live here in the house and there'll be no expenses of any sort. “Would S3O a week be satisfactory to begin w’ith. Janet computed rapidly. Thirty dollars a week w’ith no living expenses was considerably more than she had been earning at the Every Home office. Why, it was almost equal to SSO! “That will be satisfactory,” she said. “And I'll be ready to go to work Monday morning.” There was a light sound beside her and Janet turned. A huge yellow’ Persian cat wearing a blue ribbon about its neck stood eying her. The cat arched its neck inquiringly. “Oh, there’s Buster!” Mrs. Curtis exclaimed. “He always comes to see who’s here. Buster, come say how-do-you-do to Miss Hill!” The cat, instead of showing any signs of friendliness, remained planted where it was. “It’s a beautiful creature,” Janet said admiringly. This was the animal, of course, of which Hamilton had spoken. It was plain to be seen that Buser was a favored member of the household. "I’ve had him since he was a kitten,” Mrs. Curtis explained. "He’s 3 years old now and such an intelligent cat ” a a a A LI, at once Buster interrupted this conversation. Slowly he strolled forward and brushed against Janet's knee. He said “Me-row!” and then, lightly, gracefully, leaped into her lap. “Why, Buster!” Mrs. Curtis cried. “Why. did you ever see anything like that? Imagine, getting right into your lap. "Buster never makes friends with strangers so quickly. Well, now, isn’t that wonderful?” It didn't seem particularly wc:.derful to Janet, but it did seem to settle one thing. Since Buster had accepted her. there was no doubt that Janet was hired as Mrs. Curtis’ social secretary. When she left the house a few minutes later, it was with the understanding that on the following Monday she would return. Hamilton seemed pleased when she reported this to him. The other girls at the office asked questions curiously. They wanted to know what a social secretary did. (To Be Continued)

OUR HOARDING HOUSE

THtVLL CURE v\Y GIFT TO THE )\ MY ) LEAD NOWHERE, LUB*. EGAD? ) ( TtJ *A E*CtFT TO TH % NAL_ FAI-R OF / JG DOORS ) 1 Lie qi r\ s— f 1 CAN STILL GEE ° LD <=T' r L. f OL' HIENIE INSIDE, kU HAUS p EVEN TU' SA POLISWIN' TY\' squ eak opth' (CLASSES? WT V&L USED r-' .4 \

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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SALESMAN SAM

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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TARZAN THE UNTAMED

Tarzan felt no pity for this woman of a cruel enemy. Yet despite his sentiments toward her, he was forced to admire her fine display of courage. “Tarzan goes now to hunt for himself and his she," he said to ifie apes. "The she will remain here.”

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

The ape-man pointed toward the hut. “See that no member of the tribe harms her. Do you understand?” The apes nodded. “We will r.ot harm her,” said Zu-byat. “No," threatened Tta:zan, ifor if you do, Tarzan will kill you.”

—By Ahern

OUT OUR WAY

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MAR.Y\_AMO OWCVKtVi QANE ON , CAWS —PAVE OM CAUSE FIUCV WXtAeAMVS SP-SAST OF TONitCHT Vo's GAMIME. C\T PO\< AM' SPOUSE SAUTE; CVXASStOP —MA\TPY SEANS A \_A TUTT , U'E _ S ( D'hOTSL POTATOES —ASPAP A 60S S-A-M-E j A LA U,OL\_ANOA\St—CAULXFLOWEP A LA PAPMESAVX MOSHPOOMS EjEW . c,,oowojc - ''' A *~- ’’ r • ■Jy. * - L r Ay

Then he said to Olga: "I am going to hunt. You had better remain at the hut. The apes have promised not to harm you. I leave my spear with you. It will be the best weapon in case you need to protect yourself.

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

T doubt if ycu will be in danger the short time I am away.” Tarzan walked with the Red spy as far as the boma, and when she had entered, he closed the gap with thorn bushes. The girl watched him|as now he walked away toward the forest.

PAGE 13

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

n,T -'‘ill

—By Martin